


The Case of the Last Christmas Present

by mm8



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Gen, Gift Giving, John tries to be Father Christmas, Mycroft is a Softie, Paddington Bear - Freeform, Paddington Station, Sherlock is Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-03
Updated: 2012-12-03
Packaged: 2017-11-20 05:32:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/581825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has made his Christmas list and is checking it twice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Case of the Last Christmas Present

John was in a jolly mood. It was Christmas Eve. He had time off at the clinic for the next three days, and tomorrow he was going over to meet Sarah's family for a traditional Christmas feast. Sherlock was even in the festive spirit. He had decorated the skull on the mantelpiece with a Father Christmas hat and beard and was playing classic Christmas songs such as 'O Tannenbaum' and 'Greensleeves' on his violin. 

The doctor pulled out his notepad and set about a tradition he undertook every Christmas Eve, double checking that he had bought everyone their present. He knew that he had bought everyone their gift, he never made a mistake. But checking his list twice made him feel like Father Christmas in a sense.

Harry – Gift card to Amazon ✓  
Sherlock – New set of beakers ✓  
Mycroft – I'll figure something out later  
Mrs. Hudson – month supply of herbal tea ✓  
Lestrade- Tie rack ✓  
Mike – Expensive pen ✓

Wait, what? John checked the list again and again. How had this happened? How was this possible? He had forgotten to get a gift for Sherlock's brother? The man practically was the government how did he forget? Mycroft could probably have him assassinated for giving him a crappy gift never mind none whatsoever!

"Sherlock!" He braced himself on either side of the armchair. "We have an emergency!"

The consulting detective seemed irritated behind his fake beard that he had been interrupted during 'God Rest Ye Merry Gentleman'. "What is it now, John?" He glanced between his friend and the table where John had been sitting before. "Oh I see. You forgot to buy my brother a Christmas present and you are overreacting."

John stared at him, bewildered. He had lived with Sherlock for nearly a year but Sherlock's method of deduction still baffled him. "There's no way you could have possibly known that."

"Of course I figured it out." He made a pfft sound, and set his violin down beside the chair. "For some idiotic reason you wanted to buy those you value to you presents for Christmas. And tonight, on Christmas Eve you check your list to make sure you have not forgotten anyone. You fancy yourself as a modern Father Christmas without the hat and beard." Sherlock gestured to the skull. "Yet this year, unlike all the others you _have_ forgotten someone. But who? It can't be Harry, you would blow it off quickly. You could just mail her a gift card after Boxing Day. It cannot be Clara because you've lost touch with her even though you miss her greatly. You bought a great deal of tea just for the two of us, so therefore you have already have bought your gift for Mrs. Hudson. It wouldn't be Lestrade because Lestrade would be surprised at your gift and didn't expect to receive one from you in the first place. Mike is a reasonable man and knows that you are on a limited budget and wouldn't mind a late gift, or none at all." Sherlock gave a shrug. "And I already know what you are getting me, besides why would you inform me if you had forgotten to get me my present?" The detective held up his hands. "Now Mycroft is a powerful man. You've seen it and understand. You irrationally fear that if you do not give him an exceptional gift that Mycroft could have you fired from your job, or taint your public records somehow, or worse have you killed." Sherlock shook his head. "None of these are true, however. Even though Mycroft is a dastardly man, he would not go to such extremes just for not getting him a Christmas present."

The ex-military man breathed out sigh and visibly relaxed. "So I have nothing to worry about then?"

"What?" In the few seconds since Sherlock had stopped rambling, his brain seemed to have wandered onto another subject. "Oh no, you still need to buy him something. I told him you were getting him a gift."

John jumped back. His nostrils flared. "Why did you tell him that!?" He was doomed…

" _Because_ you were going to get him something. Besides he kept asking what _I_ wanted for Christmas and I just wanted him to leave the flat. Informing him that you were planning to give him something changed the topic long enough to get him out of my hair." Sherlock clearly had no regrets.

"You do realize that I'm screwed? It's Christmas Eve! The stores will be packed and the merchandise will be gone!"

Sherlock waved his hand. "Just go to Paddington Station and get him a Paddington Bear."

John's eyes bulged out of their sockets. "Are you insane!? Sherlock, your brother—"

"—Loves Paddington Bear." The detective interjected. "I know it may not see obvious to you John, with your tiny brain. But I have known Mycroft, sadly, for my entire life. He has a hidden, well, not so hidden, passion for Paddington Bear. He has all the books in every edition, merchandise such as teacups from Spode and even a Paddington Bear suitcase. I have been told, with those who have more experience in these matters, that giving a gift to Mycroft in something he is incredibly fond of, even if he already has the item, is quite thoughtful. So go down to Paddington Station and get him a bear."

John grumbled to himself about the cold as he grabbed his jacket and headed out to buy a child's toy for a man who could easily order to have his head chopped off. When he reached the bottom of the stairs he heard Sherlock playing on the violin again, and he cursed.

The tube had been overly crowded; he had to wait to get a train because the first one that came by was too full. When he finally got on a train it stank of piss and sweat. He kept being banged around by people and their massive shopping bags. It was quite uncomfortable. 

When he finally arrived at Paddington station it was packed as well. The trains were rolling in; he saw many families and friends being reunited. However touching all this was, he was on a mission. He navigated his way through the station until he found the official Paddington Bear stall near platform 1. John rushed toward the stand, breathing heavily, leaning against it when he reached it.

"Paddington… Bear… Give… Me…" He rasped.

The pimply teenage girl stared at him. "Paddington Bear _what_?" She gestured to various items in the stall. "We have bronze figurines, t-shirts, bags, books, bears—"

John pointed at her. "Yes! Yes… Need… a bear!" His breathing was finally returning to normal.

"Okay," The girl said cheerfully, like they were finally getting somewhere. "What kind of bear would you like?"

The ex-soldier was exasperated. " _Any_ bear! What's the difference?"

"There's _plenty_ of differences, sir." The teenager seemed almost offended. "There are bears more suited for babies and young children. Some are made to cater to collectors. They come in different color coats and hats. There are different sizes. The feel of the fur and the cloth of the coat will differ from bear to bear—"

"Okay, okay!" John shouted. This was supposed to be a simple operation. Who would have thought buying a Paddington Bear would be so complicated? "Just give me one that's under twenty pounds!"

The girl scrunched up her face. "Your only option then is the 'My First Paddington Bear' designed for infants."

"That's fine, that's fine." He hurried and slammed a twenty pound note on the table. "Do you gift wrap?" He asked as an afterthought.

On Boxing Day, while he was enjoying a cup of tea with Mrs. Hudson, his mobile beeped. Thinking it was Sherlock beckoning him to some crime scene he immediately checked it. 

Many thanks for the Paddington Bear. Happy Boxing Day. Mycroft Holmes

**Author's Note:**

> * Kudos are amazing and I will never stop asking for them, but getting comments, actual feedback from readers means so much. Taking five seconds out of your time can really make my day.
>   
> 
> * You can follow me on [tumblr](http://mm8fic.tumblr.com/).
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